


Chance Encounters

by MusicPrincess655



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Chance Meetings, First Kiss, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23352649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicPrincess655/pseuds/MusicPrincess655
Summary: Three years after Semi graduated from Shiratorizawa, Shirabu runs into him again in an unexpected place.
Relationships: Semi Eita/Shirabu Kenjirou
Comments: 21
Kudos: 319





	Chance Encounters

**Author's Note:**

> So yes, I'm aware I haven't gone here in two years (it's legitimately been two years since my last posted semishira fic) but that new season got me good, so I guess I go here again. It's really nice to be back!
> 
> I realize they probably don't all live in Tokyo, but I didn't see anything specifically telling me no, so they all live in Tokyo. Maybe this is an AU. Shirabu and Kawanishi are 21, so it's about a year before the events of the timeskip.

Kenjirou buries his face in his arms, groaning. A headache pulses behind his eyes, and if he has to keep looking at his computer screen, he’s going to throw it out the window.

“Rough day?”

Kenjirou turns his head to glare at Taichi, one eye still hidden in his arms.

“If I have to write about one more ‘positive patient interaction’ to prove I have a good bedside manner I’m going to kill you and then myself,” Kenjirou threatens.

“Scary,” Taichi says, not looking remotely scared. “Should I be concerned about how bad your bedside manner is?”

“It’s not bad,” Kenjirou snaps. Taichi raises one eyebrow. “It’s passable. I’m going for surgery anyway, just give me a scalpel and let me figure it out.”

“Come to the bar with me,” Taichi says. “I’ll make you a drink. Something strong.”

“I don’t want something strong from you,” Kenjirou complains. Taichi can make drinks that knock Kenjirou on his ass with one sip.

“Fine, I’ll make you something weak and fruity.” Taichi rolls his eyes.

“Just go flirt with your customers without me,” Kenjirou says. He’ll give himself ten more minute of moping around before he takes another crack at this essay to send to his advisor and hope he doesn’t get back a full page of revisions. Again.

“Look,” Taichi says, teasing glint gone from his eyes. “Jokes aside, you’re stuck in here doing work on a Saturday night, and I’m pretty sure you’re just swapping words out for synonyms at this point. You’re not being productive, and you have to have fun at some point.”

“I have fun,” Kenjirou protests, but even he can hear how weak it sounds. “I just have to make it through the next two years of med school hell, then-”

“Then you start your residency, and then you disappear into the adult world, and before you know it you’re a forty-year-old virgin moaning about how you wasted the bloom of your youth,” Taichi cuts him off. “Your homework will still be here when you get back, and you might have better luck with fresh eyes.”

Kenjirou stares up at Taichi for a long moment, childishly refusing to let his best friend win, but they’ve known each other for too long for it to really work, and Taichi just waits him out.

“Fine!” Kenjirou folds.

“There’s an outfit for you on your bed,” Taichi says, smug grin in place. “Try to look less like…that.”

He gestures to all of Kenjirou, and Kenjirou flips him off. He’s still in his pajamas, and his hair desperately needs another round with his straightener after the hours he’s spent running his hands through it.

Kenjirou expects to feel more gross and reluctant to go out, but after fixing his hair, pulling on skinny jeans and a shirt that shows off the muscle he still has left from volleyball, and adding a touch of cologne, he feels a lot more human. He’s even – just a little bit – excited to leave the apartment for something other than clinicals. He doesn’t tell Taichi any of this, of course, but Taichi probably knows anyway. They didn’t choose to live together only because they both moved to Tokyo at the same time.

“Is there a band playing tonight?” Kenjirou asks as they walk to the bar where Taichi works.

The live music can be pretty hit or miss. Sometimes it’s good, and sometimes it’s a high school cover band that hasn’t quite figured out instruments yet.

“Yep,” Taichi says. “I think you’ll like this one.”

“What kind of music do they play?” Kenjirou just hopes it’s not one of those pop cover bands again.

“Rock,” Taichi says. “You’ll appreciate the lead singer.”

It’s just vague enough that Kenjirou cuts suspicious eyes at Taichi, but nothing in his tone or body language suggests teasing, so Kenjirou lets it drop.

The band isn’t playing yet when they get to the bar, so Kenjirou parks himself at the end of the counter in the far corner of the room. It gives him a good vantage point so he can people watch, and if it gets slow enough Taichi can talk to him down here.

Taichi slides a glass of something red and bubbly in front of him, and Kenjirou takes a sip without bothering to ask what it is. It’s probably one of Taichi’s creations anyway. The sweetness and fizz nearly cover up the burn of the alcohol, so it’s not enough to get Kenjirou properly drunk. There’s a small, self-destructive part of him that wants to get drunk anyway, forget all of his problems by force, but Kenjirou ignores that.

The drummer and bassist for the band come on the small stage on the other side of the bar. They look around Kenjirou’s age, so he’ll probably be spared the high schoolers today. He observes as they adjust the mics and finish setting up their instruments, but his attention is broken when a crowd of college students enters the bar together, laughing and talking. Taichi starts getting drink orders, and Kenjirou gets so caught up watching him make the drinks that he doesn’t realize the whole band is now on stage.

“Hey everyone,” says a voice Kenjirou recognizes, and he chokes on his drink, coughing up the sip he just took. Wiping his mouth, eyes going wide, he turns back to the stage.

Semi stands at the front, guitar in his hands, as he finishes introducing the band. Kenjirou doesn’t catch much of what he says, largely just tracing his eyes up and down Semi’s body.

Semi looks _good._ The grungy style he had in high school that was a little too edgy to look cool has morphed just enough to fit perfectly on him as an adult. It works. He looks _hot._

Kenjirou thinks he sees eyeliner around Semi’s eyes, and he’s losing the ability to focus on anything else.

And of course, Semi has a nice voice. _Of course he does._ It fits so nicely with a rock band.

“Need some water?” Kenjirou rips his eyes away from Semi to see Taichi handing him another drink. “You look thirsty.”

“Shut the fuck up, Taichi.” Kenjirou looks back at Semi, eyes drawn helplessly like a compass to true north.

“A lot more women in the bar tonight,” Taichi continues. “Semi-san sure has a lot of fans.”

“Shut the _fuck up,_ Taichi,” Kenjirou growls.

Kenjirou hadn’t realized at the time that the special way he used to treat Semi in high school was actually a badly managed crush, mostly because that would have required acknowledging he only really likes boys, and he wasn’t ready to admit it. By the time he stopped lying to himself, Semi had already graduated and moved to Tokyo, and it wasn’t a relevant issue anymore.

It’s not like they haven’t spoken since high school, but it’s mostly been in the team’s group LINE chat, and Kenjirou doesn’t even have much time to keep up with that anymore. So while he hasn’t forgotten Semi, the principle of _out of sight, out of mind_ is a powerful thing.

Maybe Kenjirou should leave. He’s _very_ quickly remembering all the reasons he had such a crush on Semi, and he’s sure nothing good can come of reviving it when they’ve both moved on to different lives, but. _But._

Semi is very attractive, and a very good singer, and Kenjirou actually does like his band’s music. He watches, transfixed, through the whole set, only coming back to himself after Semi thanks everyone for coming and makes his way over to the bar.

“The usual?” Taichi asks, already reaching for a bottle of beer in the fridge behind him.

“Please,” Semi says, voice coming out rough.

Kenjirou immediately has several _highly inappropriate_ thoughts about other activities that might wreck Semi’s voice like that.

Semi tilts his head and notices Kenjirou for the first time. His face lights up and sends Kenjirou’s heart racing.

“Hey,” Semi says. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“It was this or come home to find him in a food coma because he stress-ate all the chips,” Taichi says. Kenjirou glares at him.

“Med school training really is tough, huh?” Semi laughs. “So. What’d you think?”

It takes Kenjirou an embarrassingly long time to realize Semi is asking about the performance.

“Good,” Kenjirou says. “You were…I mean the band was…I liked it.”

He tries to telepathically beg Taichi to just kill him. Taichi either can’t hear or doesn’t listen.

“I’m glad,” Semi says, still smiling. Kenjirou sees a glint of silver between Semi’s teeth. He has a tongue piercing.

Kenjirou is going to _die._

Before he can try to salvage his dignity and continue the conversation, they’re interrupted by an unfamiliar man slinging his arm around Semi’s shoulders.

“Hey man, nice performance as always,” the man says.

“Thanks,” Semi replies, leaning into the man. “See you Monday?”

“You know it.” The man claps Semi on the shoulder and leaves. It’s overtly friendly, but it makes an ugly thread of jealousy curl in Kenjirou’s stomach anyway.

“Friend of yours?” he asks.

“Ex,” Semi corrects.

“You’re sure friendly with him,” Kenjirou says before he can stop himself. It comes out _harsh,_ and he didn’t even mean it like that.

“Some of us are adults and friends with our exes,” Semi says, sounding faintly amused instead of annoyed. He must have mellowed out since high school, because back then he would’ve exploded. “It wasn’t even a bad breakup. It just didn’t work out. We work together, and it turns out dating a coworker isn’t the best plan.”

“Can’t be friend with your exes if you don’t have exes,” Taichi says.

Kenjirou almost throws a drink at him. So he doesn’t date, so what? He’s _busy,_ and it’s perfectly normal to not want to date.

“Yo, Eita, help us pack up,” one of Semi’s bandmates calls to him. Semi throws back the rest of his beer and hands the bottle off to Taichi with his thanks.

“I’m going home,” Kenjirou says.

He’s not entirely sure what he’s feeling after meeting Semi again. Distantly, he remembers Taichi telling him he’d like the lead singer. So Taichi set this up on purpose.

“My shift’s almost over, just wait and we can walk home together,” Taichi says.

“I’ll wait outside,” Kenjirou tells him. “I need some air.”

What he needs is a space where he’s allowed to smoke. It’s a terrible habit, he knows, even if it’s only occasionally. There was an entire lecture his first year of university just on the dangers of smoking. But he picked it up from his mom after he turned eighteen, and when he’s stressed, nothing helps quite like it.

He’s watching cars pass as he smokes when he feels someone standing at his shoulder.

“Those’ll kill you, you know,” Semi says.

He really is beautiful. His jawline is sharper than Kenjirou remembers, and his shaggy hair falls around his face in a way that accentuates his features. He has a few new piercings in his ears that Kenjirou didn’t notice earlier.

“So they tell me,” he replies. He’s calmed down enough that he can hold a conversation with Semi like a normal person.

“Your fancy med school hasn’t broken you of the habit?”

Semi reaches out and plucks the cigarette from Kenjirou’s fingers, raising it to his own lips. If Kenjirou was calm before, he definitely isn’t now. He can’t tear his eyes away from where Semi’s mouth molds around the cigarette, a childish part of his mind chanting _indirect kiss._

Semi must see some of it in his face, because the teasing fades from his eyes. He lowers the cigarette and steps forward into Kenjirou’s space. Kenjirou doesn’t move, barely breathes, as Semi reaches his free hand out and hooks his thumb through Kenjirou’s belt loop.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hi,” Kenjirou replies inanely. He doesn’t have to look up much to meet Semi’s eyes. Semi has never been that much taller than him.

Semi barely has to dip his head to meet Kenjirou’s lips.

Kenjirou doesn’t respond at first, somehow surprised despite how obviously Semi telegraphed the kiss. But before Semi can pull back, Kenjirou grabs the front of his shirt, fisting the fabric as he does his best to follow up. He’s only been kissed a few times before, but Semi is patient, and though Kenjirou can feel his heart roaring in his ears, the kiss itself is slow. When Semi does pull back, it takes a moment for Kenjirou to open his eyes, surfacing like he’s swimming through warm water.

“I really do have to go,” Semi says, regret obvious in his voice. “Wanna hang out sometime?”

“I’m pretty busy,” Kenjirou says on reflex. It’s what he always says to offers to hang out, partly because it’s true, but mostly because he’s never been the best at dealing with new people. Semi’s face falls in disappointment, though, so Kenjirou hastens to add, “But I’m usually free on Sundays.”

He’s not, not really – he uses them as a catchup day – but he doesn’t have specific obligations.

“I’ll text you,” Semi says. “Pay more attention to LINE.”

“I’m doing my best,” Kenjirou says.

Semi huffs a laugh, still close enough for Kenjirou to feel it, and hands his cigarette back, waving over his shoulder as he walks away. Kenjirou doesn’t put it back in his mouth, though, just watches as it burns down to the filter.

“Hey, ready to…whoa.” Kenjirou looks up at Taichi. “You good.”

Kenjirou nods mutely. Taichi looks concerned for all of another second before he must see the truth in the blush Kenjirou can still feel in his cheeks, and a shit-eating grin spreads across his face.

“Shut up,” Kenjirou snaps, turning to walk home.

“Get some.”

“ _Shut up!_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr: [ musicprincess655 ](http://musicprincess655.tumblr.com/)


End file.
